


One Autumn Later

by scattered_pages



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: And Mari deserves to be loved properly, Angst, Angst that will have a happy ending eventually, Conclusion of a slow burn, F/M, I just want them to be happy, Self-Doubt, This boy deserves all the happiness and love in the world, autumn love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-24 03:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scattered_pages/pseuds/scattered_pages
Summary: "The problem came when he realized one day, just as suddenly, that he doesn’t want to move on. More so, that the thought of moving on terrified him. So much so that he started avoiding thinking about his little reminders of the inevitable temporariness regarding this whole situation that kept his heart in-check because his heart was very much having none of that after a certain point and he kept and tried, and tried against all of himself to bury this realization under the carpet for as long as he could."Also known as, Luka is terrified to keep loving Marinette any longer with the constant thought that he is just a temporary person in her heart who she won't need anymore as soon as she heals fully. Broken-hearted and defeated, he decides to tell her this.





	1. An October Day Like Any Other

**Author's Note:**

> I am officially in love with the tender relationship these two selfless fools have with each other and I'm trying to forget about the fact that they'll be over as soon as the endgame ship will have to take place so I came up with my own alternative version of events that describes what happens to them almost a year later.
> 
> Part two will be Marinette's response. <3
> 
> Tip: "Northern Wind" by City and Colour is the perfect musical background for this chapter.

Autumn came quietly but steadily into the city of Paris and engulfed everything delicately in yellow and orange leaves, chilly mornings and a smell of roasted chestnuts spreading from vendors at every other corner and reminding unmistakably of rainy days ending in sunsets, going back to class and the beginning of sweater weather. As always Luka was waiting for Marinette in front of her school. Being a year older, their schedules often didn’t quite match, but as often as he could, he made a point of being the smile and a warm hug that greets her after class each day. He made that promise to her on that very early autumn day almost exactly a year ago when he played her _her_ song and tried to ease as much of her burdened shoulders and shattered heart with his melodies, his presence and the quiet but endless support and adoration he has felt for this girl for, it seemed, forever.

He knew back then, and tried to remind himself of this fact very often, for his own sake, that this was not permanent. That he was not the „first choice“. That he was not the one that holds the centre piece of her heart. He was just that tender edge, helping her hold her heart together until she heals and is happy again.

Being sixteen, one could say that Luka didn’t know much about love yet and, perhaps, this was the most dangerous thing about this. Because Luka knew he cared deeply about Marinette, but wasn’t quite sure how else to call it. He knew he had crushes and whatnot before. He had kissed a girl before. He knew how it is like to enjoy someone’s presence just a bit more than everyone else’s and how nice it can feel to want to be near them and how amazing it would be to see how their hands felt in his or their lips on his lips. More or less, these were just normal teenage crushes and likes that came quickly and went away just as quick. And, with how lightning-speed it struck him, he thought that his feelings for Marinette will probably, hopefully fade away just as fleetingly.

However, she fascinated him more than anything or anyone around him and caused this intense amount of protectiveness and appreciation like no one else before. She _was _like no one else he met before and being near her brought him just that one more pinch of shakiness and calm all at the same time than anyone else had made him feel before. But he is an aspiring musician, a free spirit and a kind and patient young man, he knew her mind and heart were elsewhere, the stabbing realization of this having struck him very early on in knowing her as well as his feelings for her did, but he also knew he somehow made her happy and he made her at ease and if she kept coming back to him and wanted to spend more time with him and needed him to make her feel just a bit more stable and whole again, than he was more than happy to provide. Even when it all ends, he will have spent some time with a girl he deeply cherishes and he will have helped a heart get better and regrow its strength and then he will just – move on with his life. As easy going and casual as he has always been.

The problem came when he realized one day, just as suddenly, that he doesn’t want to move on. More so, that the thought of moving on terrified him. So much so that he started avoiding thinking about his little reminders of the inevitable temporariness regarding this whole situation that kept his heart in-check because his heart was very much having none of that after a certain point and he kept and tried, and tried against all of himself to bury this realization under the carpet for as long as he could.

But a year passed. And here he was. And she came running to him down those stairs in a new sweater, slightly too big for her frame, that made her look as delicate as an angel, her hair in two messy buns, her bright blue eyes sparkling that much more due to her smile and as she ran down the stairs, she was side-tracked by Alya, waving her a goodbye from a distance and averting her gaze towards the left lower corner of the stairs – where Adrian was. Kagami in his arms, wrapped tightly around his neck, their lips moving against each other with tiny smiles for what seemed like a small eternity. And he watched as his stunning little angel lost that sparkle in her eyes within seconds, her hands gripping at the edges of her sweater nervously, her lips dragging in a small sad smile as she looked down, a smile he thought was more for regathering her own composure and her steps now continued slow and gentle, like she might break at any moment if she moves too suddenly and too fast.

When this first started happening, he was glad to be the safe harbour to meet her at the bottom of those stairs with arms open wide, to wrap her in his embrace after a moment like this and to hold her quietly, smoothing her hair and kissing her forehead until the pain numbed down and they could walk home together. He welt a weird almost typically manly sense of pride in a way, that Adrien could only break her so hard and only he could piece her back together and he would usher them away from the school, from it all and helped her put that wonderful smile back on her face gradually. First, it was hard. Very hard. The first time she ran into his arms like that time when he dropped his bike without even a second thought to hold her close, crying, ashamed, broken and every tear, every sob that she tried to keep invisible and quiet killed him. It always took a very long walk around the Seine after school, and he was very happy with coming home a bit late, because any exhaustion of a day of classes faded in her presence, some ice cream, cake or a few sing-alongs and maybe a few funny stories about their families, school or anything really just to get her to a point of at least smiling at him again after a while.

Often she had to go abruptly without telling him why and often she was very shy and fragile regarding any physical contact but, much to an insane amount of his heart’s happiness, slowly, she started lingering in his arms just a bit longer when she met him down those stairs. Slowly, she started seeking his hugs even later during their walks, randomly, happily, safely. It developed gradually but so, so naturally and beautifully that, within two months, they were exchanging their _„how are you“_ ’s and small, brief comments about the day while still in each other’s embraces, their heads turning towards each other’s hair and necks and needing to enjoy a moment of this before they can walk away and move on with their day. First with his arm wrapped around her shoulders as she blushed and sometimes leaned her head giggling against him, to later her grabbing the hold of his jacket sleeve or wrapping her hands around his arm as they walked on.

She always gave him a kiss on the cheek when they finally parted ways. First a quick peck, which slowly became a more lingering kiss against his skin, smiling and cupping his other cheek with her hand in a way that made him feel warm up his neck and all the way to his toes. To Luka, this was enough to feel like he was on top of the world. He became more cheery and proactive than his usual self at home and there was no end to Juleka _and_ Captain’s teasing. Until one day, this too progressed. He didn’t want to push forward. He didn’t need to, he thought, even though the shape of her lips and the softness of her skin was becoming a steady _„what if“_ in his mind as time went by, his curiosity and feelings sneaking these daydreams into more intrepid ones, where he imagined the sensation of his palms on the skin of her waist, or would her neck feel warmer and more soft against his lips than it does against his guitar-calloused fingers, or would he be able to feel her heartbeat if she pressed her body just a bit more flush against his, but even these fantasies weren’t rushed. They were soft and brimming with strange emotion but Luka thought, once again, oh well, he is a sixteen year old boy, this is a girl he has been spending an increasing amount of time with, with an increasing amount of contact and he liked her, so it seemed like another normal thing that will probably go away and he didn’t question the fact that, one day, when she pressed her lips warm and urgent against his, he felt strangely scared and overjoyed and shaken and overcome with a strange longing to the point it even made his eyes water a bit, which he was very, very grateful she didn’t noticed when she rapidly moved away, smiled shyly as her cheeks grew crimson and turned to run home into the bakery.

Love – was a feeling that he thought was probably something different. He wasn’t sure what, or what else could be stronger than wanting to talk to and hold and sing to this girl forever, but this can’t have been it. This wasn’t it. And so, as holding hands by the river turned into her sitting in his lap, giddy and needy lips against exhilaratingly happy and perhaps even more tenderly needy lips, as a daily gift of a single azure blue macaroon with a small message complimenting a different thing about him every day became a tradition of hers that she never missed for a single day, as she started to fall asleep with him wrapped carefully around her during their study or movie dates and as her laughter, her kindness and her brilliance became always and constantly the last thing he thought about before sleep, instead of reminding himself of how temporary this is,_ „this isn’t it, this isn’t it_“ became a new mantra that he used to cover up what he knew would ruin him entirely if he let it grab any more hold of him.

But that one broken smile. That sad gaze towards the ground. This time. This time it made certain things very painfully clear to him in a rush of feelings he was no longer able to escape. And so this time he didn’t greet her with a wide smile or arms open wide, which caused a confused, worried look on her face that broke his heart to a further point he thought was impossible at the moment.

„I’m sorry, Marinette…“, his voice was almost a whisper, „ ...I can’t do this anymore.“


	2. Like Yellow Leaves, Let Me Fall Into Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And while kind words and support from her friends – at least regarding some of the things that she didn’t need to constantnly keep as a secret from them – did help to keep her afloat, only Luka really managed to anchor her gently down, keep her calm, keep her believing in herself, keep her sane. She didn’t even need to talk to him about the Miraculous, her secret could stay comfortably hidden because with him, she didn’t even have the need to get any direct advice or comfort regarding this because he, just by being himself, being with her, talking to her about completely different things, playing music to her as she closed her eyes and rested next to him and giving her just unconditional and ever-patient support was enough to make any and all agonies within her mind fade into the background with an ease that surprised her every time. He just knew her somehow and he knew how to do this, no questions asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the conclusion of this emotional duo, my loves, I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. ♡
> 
> For this chapter, I have chosen Barcelona's "Please Don't Go" and Lauren Aquilina's "Fools" as its perfect musical accompaniment. ♡

* * *

There is a special kind of gentle sadness that your first love leaves beneath your skin and you can never really get it out again. And the deeper and more devoted that the love was, the more damage did this sorrow do whilst burying itself within you and the longer it takes to fully forget about the painful pulls and tugs of its strings whenever it is even a bit provoked. _Especially_ when the other side did absolutely nothing wrong except being happy, but with someone else. Marinette came to know this very well, very soon.

Because, you are lucky when this love is someone who you can run away from, who you can blame, who was more of a stranger than a companion and for whom it takes just a bit of distance in order for you to start healing and feeling alive again. But when this person is your friend, a part of a group of one of your _closest_ friends, and not just him, but also his new sweetheart… This can _hurt_. Continuously, relentlessly, leaving you feeling selfish and wrong and broken, the wound on your broken heart never having enough time to heal before it’s torn apart again.

And she believed that it is indeed a very selfish hurt, because this person didn’t insult her, hate her, he didn’t even directly_ reject_ her. He only showed her perhaps emotional ignorance at most, but this was not something she was capable of taking as a huge sin or wrongdoing of any sort, especially since this boy was still so kind and so lovely to her, _and_ his girlfriend as well. They were both very doting and caring over her, as well being truly perfect friends to her and instead of being happy, this all created a very messy heap of emotions in Marinette’s head; selfless and selfish, eager to forget and desperate to remain, sharp and painfully numbing, all at the same time. Because the bad thing about first loves is, they usually come very early, very young, and no one, not a single other person’s experience or story can prepare you for when it ends because each person’s pain in this case is very ruefully unique, different and perhaps worst of all, most often very lasting as well.

Fortunately, Alya, Juleka, Rose, and a few others, those who knew about how she used to feel and who could sense how badly this is getting to her now even when she fiercely tried to hide it, tried to be there for her absolutely as most as they could, trying as much as possible to ease this new painful awkwardness in their group, to help Marinette move on and to bring back the happy, vivid atmosphere that their hangouts, as an entire group, used to have, without any sadness or confusion or guilt sneaking at the edges.

But it was only one of them that, somehow, slowly and dedicatedly managed to be able to, even very early on, completely ease Mari’s mind and take her away from the pain, the crowd of people she tried desperately to be happy for, her studies and even away for just moments at least from the even more secret chaos and stress that ruled supreme inside her over her ever growing responsibilities as one of this city’s guardians and now the _main_ guardian of one of the most important and powerful artefacts in the world.

Marinette didn’t believe that she was worthy _or_ ready to be the guardian of all the Miraculous. Not now, _especially_ not now. And all the fear and hurt and worry was just a bit too much for a young girl of only fifteen who, as responsible, dilligent and mature as she was, still wasn’t, like any fifteen year-old, ready for a _great deal_ of the things this world would bring her. And while kind words and support from her friends – at least regarding some of the things that she didn’t need to constantnly keep as a secret from them – did help to keep her afloat, only Luka really managed to anchor her gently down, keep her calm, keep her believing in herself, _keep her sane_. She didn’t even need to talk to him about the Miraculous, her secret could stay comfortably hidden because with him, she didn’t even have the need to get any direct advice or comfort regarding this because he, just by being himself, being with her, talking to her about completely different things, playing music to her as she closed her eyes and rested next to him and giving her just unconditional and ever-patient support was enough to make any and all agonies within her mind fade into the background with an ease that surprised her every time. He just knew her somehow and he knew how to do this, no questions asked.

After awhile, she couldn’t imagine a single day without seeing him at the bottom of those school stairs, smiling, as calm and radiant and happy as ever, and waiting just for her. There was something very special in this little routine of theirs and she could swear, even through all her confusion, disbelief and insecurity, that he showed something very rare and special in that smile each time, that only she could see and that was only ever meant _for_ her. Because even though Alya was her bestest friend and she could always be happy and relaxed with her, what she felt around Luka was something else entirely. A quiet little feeling of safety, slowly being kindled until it became this overwhelming joy, adoration and sense of being home as long as she’s somewhere next to him or near to him.

And yet, through this all, it still hurt to see Adrien and Kagami together, a boy she pined for for what seemed to have been ages, a person she envisioned her entire future with, but somehow, the possibility of _this_ new future fairly quickly became a refreshingly better and happier option. And he went from being the shore on which she crashed to block out anything else around her causing her pain or damage, but soon became a crucial, independent new part of her life. Marinette never really thought about any second chances, or second options, even in that brief while that she knew Luka had certain feelings for her. She never dared to stop holding onto the dream of her and Adrien and she never dared to hope that there could be a worthy replacement that could actually feel the same way in return. Except, Luka wasn’t a mere ‘replacement’. He was a person of his own, so different from Adrien, in some aspects different even from herself, but in the best possible way – the kind that completes you, excites you and makes you a better 'you’. And what a sweet surprise it was, that the taste of his lips was the most beautiful thing imaginable, that the comfort of his arms around her couldn’t compare with any cosy blanket or pillow and that just a few words or one expression even, was enough for him to just _understand_. And to know exactly what to do. Oh god, she hoped she was able to reciprocate this feeling to him, too. At least a bit, so he at least got an ounce of that safety and happiness that she felt with him.

That’s why when, on another one of those typical days, now more than a year after her heart broke and she opened herself up to him, he greeted her at the bottom of those stairs, but so did Adrien and Kagami, the overwhelming amount of responsibilities that was waiting for her on this particular day when she got home, and her own self doubt, and _damn it_, she _still hurt_. Seeing this _still hurt_. Even though she didn’t want him anymore, even though she mostly moved on, those damn broken shards beneath her skin still cut into her with a familiar sharpness each time she saw them and had that 'what might have been’ thought creep into her head for even a millisecond.

But the face Luka made when she went up to greet him, the shaky step he took away from her as she reached for him…

_„I’m sorry, Marinette… I can’t do this anymore.”_

This is what made it clear to her that she hasn’t even dreamed of how strong her pain can be. But this hurt felt different. This felt like losing a home. Like something that was _already_ set so deep inside her suddenly wanted to leave.

“Luka…?”, her voice cracked quietly, her voice a terrified confusion.

He looked up at her, torn, and sighed before he looked back down. “For the first time since we’ve met… I’m going to have to be a bit selfish, Marinette…”

“Selfish?”, she tilted her head, his actions no clearer.

“I-…”, he started, but closed his mouth immediately, taking one more deep, troubled breath before he gently reached out for her hand. “Mari…”, he whispered, “The past year… I think it’s been some of the happiest, most wonderful, inspiring moments that I’ve ever had in my life…”, his lips spread into a rueful smile and she returned it with her own. “But the more I grew attached to this… Attached to _you_… The more I realized, it’s a matter of time before it all goes away and I end up torn to pieces. Before you’re happy again and you move on.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, why would this go away? 

And than it hit her. Painfully obvious and guilt-ridden, she realized.

Oh.

_Oh._

“And more than anything, Mari, just seeing you happy, just us being together, happy, hanging out after school, talking ‘til it’s way, way too late for staying up during a school night, just kind of… _existing_ with you, without this being anything defined or anything more, I could honestly stay like that forever. Because you have _no_ idea how happy…”, he breathed out a sad chuckle and looked away, “…it makes me to be able to make you happy.”

“Luka…!”, she quickly interjected, but he stopped her.

“Mari, please, you know how utterly bad I am with words… If I don’t say this now, when it’s all at least somewhat pulled together in my head, I’ll never saying and I’ll regret it forever and it’s going to be worse for the both of us…”, he squeezed her hands slightly, looking back into her eyes, “Mari… I think I’m in love with you. I mean like, love _love_ , want to stay with you forever and I can’t imagine my life without you type of in love with you…”, he blurted out and quickly blushed a deep shade of crimson, a stark contrast with his azure blue locks of hair.

Her eyes widened slightly, “_Love_ love…”, was all she managed to blurt out back to him, but shocked silence was the only thing that filled her mouth after that, although it was maybe for the better because Luka quickly continued.

“And while that would be perfectly wonderful, a-and… perfect, for me, I don’t think it’s what _you_ have in mind, is it…?”, he gave her one more sad smile, but his face was filled with so much sadness, that it could hardly be called a proper smile. The desperate hints of sorrow that he very clearly was trying to suppress as much as he could brought tears to the corners of her eyes.

“Mari, _no_”, he said with a softly caring firmness, taking a step closer to her and now taking both her hands in his, “_Do not _be sad for me, it is not your fault for me feeling any type of way and it is not your responsibility to reciprocate, okay?”, he searched her eyes, “Above all this, I am your friend, I want you to be happy, and I am the only one being selfish here by even telling you all this and letting you down.”

“B-But, Luka…”, her voice trailed off and a sniffle escaped her and she wanted to curse herself right now for being this pathetic when Luka was obviously feeling bad enough as it is. She shut her eyes and blinked her tears away, one of them rolling down her cheek from the motion and shook her head in order to try to get herself together. “Damn it!”, she sighed angrily and took a deep breath, “Why… Why would you think I didn’t care about you the same way?”

“Mari, you have to know, it’s just important that you… Wait-what?”, he stared at her, looking as if he wasn’t really sure if he got that right, that maybe it was the tears distorting her voice, maybe he heard wrong.

She smiled wide and dragged her sweater sleeve across her damp check, giving another small sniffle. “Luka… Luka, you silly boy, I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t you notice that already? Hasn’t it been ridiculously and embarrassingly obvious?”, she chuckled lightly.

But this didn’t cheer him up. If anything, it made the boy’s expression drop again. “The thing is… I saw how you still look at them,” he gestured towards Adrien and Kagami behind them as they were walking away and waving. “I know you still love him. Maybe you feel safe or comforted with me, but I don’t think it’s the same as what I feel…”

“_Luka Couffaine_!”, Marinette suddenly frowned, upset, “You have done nothing but allowed me to be myself with you and express myself as I truly am and now you don’t think I can’t recognize my own feelings properly?!”

This visibly took him aback slightly. “I’m not yet fully over how hurt and disappointed I felt about the fact that someone I cared for as much and as long as I did for Adrien had chosen someone entirely else, someone entirely new”, she weighed her words carefully but decided to be honest, “He was my first love… Even after my feelings for him have faded, it is normal that a bit of hurt and sadness still remain for a while, even for a long while. But even if he changed his mind and came running to my arms, I would _never_ choose him over you, not anymore, _not now_!”

As she spoke, determined, she realized that, a lot of these things have been weighing on her mind but she was too afraid to materialize them into coherent thoughts, let alone words, but here she was, and honestly, she will lose the chance to ever say it again. “I know I haven’t really… _defined_ what we have. But Luka, you know me, you know I’m not the kind of girl that would act like I act with you if I didn’t have legit, serious reasons behind it, you _know_ I’m not someone who would fake that, not even for self-serving reasons”

“Oh…”, he breathed out, as if she just illuminated something that he as well now realized was supposed to be something very clear to him.

“Luka… I don’t want to lose this”, her palm reached for his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, an automatic response to such a notion from her at this point of their friendship or relationship or whatever they were right now.

But Marinette knew that defining this was now a thing that finally _had_ to be done, no more postponing out of fear and avoiding it, it was necessary to keep this going and to keep her by his side and, fortunately, all the reasons for her fears and doubts were now whisked away anyway.

Cupping his other cheek with her palm as well, she looked into his eyes with a bright, hopeful smile and a flush upon her cheeks which both reached her still damp eyes, “Do… D-Do you want to be my boyfriend.”Signed, sealed, delivered _officially_ my boyfriend?”

He let out a chiming breathy laugh of relief. She thought that, up until she really truly _‘popped the question’_, so to say, he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?”, he still asked and she frowned again, getting in his face with an upset little pout, “Luka, damn it, please, believe I’m-…”, her case pleading was swiftly interrupted by two lips crashing against hers, arms wrapped around her in that soothingly familiar way that just made her feel complete, her body immediately replying by relaxing in his arms and fluttering her eyes closed as she eagerly kissed back. A few kids, honestly maybe even Alya, were whistling at them teasingly from the background, but neither of them even heard that. All that existed now was them and this. A long, painfully awaited and formerly feared conclusion to a year-long of not knowing, not daring and holding back.

They’ve kissed before, yes, but there was something just so _right _about it this time, that it made Mari so happy, causing her eyes to grow dewy with salty wetness again. And when they pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other, she could swear that his were a bit wet as well. In that sweet, happy, relief-cry kind of way. Grinning at her in a way she was utterly sure was brighter and more stunningly beautiful than the autumn sun above them, he just pulled her closer to him and they simply stood like that for awhile, just hugging and being perfectly, blissfully happy.

He traced one arm through her hair carefully and the other held her tight against him, thumb tracing circles against her beck in a way that sent sweet shivers dancing down her spine. He laughed again, “You kind of took my words away from me with that, I’d recite you a sonnet now if I could or if I knew how to, but I think we’ve both noticed a few minutes ago that I might be horrifyingly bad at showing my love…”

“Don’t worry,” she nuzzled her nose against the crook of his neck, breathing in his sweet scent and wishing she could pause this moment so it could stay forever exactly like this, “You’re showing it.”


End file.
